Lucius, Torchwood and the Sheep
by Mary West
Summary: Lucuis is searching the sewers for a reported Death Eater hideout when he stumbles into someone's love-nest in a cellar! Written in response to a misunderstanding about the category "EWE" in Harry Potter Fanfic.
1. Darkness

The darkness was almost palpable; a rank, fetid darkness that crept through the sewers and into every crevice of the cloak Lucius wrapped tightly around himself. "Lumos" he intoned for the fifth time, but something in the Stygian gloom stifled even magically-conjured light. The blond-haired wizard muttered an imprecation against the pedigree of his Dark Master, and pressed on through the sludge, trying hard not to think of what the sludge was doing to his boots at the same time. His hands brushed the walls on either side, attempting to keep balance and find a way out.

Ten minutes more, and several hundred miasma-laden meters further on, his gloved hand discovered that there was a passage to the right. Unfortunately, this was at the exact moment that his right foot discovered a loose and wobbly brick in the floor. Lucius fell heavily into the stench, the slime sloshing over his clothes in a noisome "splash".

"Devil take them, and their stupid hideaway." He pulled himself to his feet, considered the mess, and decided to deal with it after locating the supposed Death Eater lair he had been seeking. He made a slow and painful (not to mention smelly) essay into the side tunnel, feeling each step before putting his weight on the bricks. The tunnel end was only three yards away, however, and Lucius allowed the despair of extreme frustration to overtake him as he slumped against the facing.

"I don't suppose they've even been down here" he muttered to himself, adjusting the right glove which had slipped up and allowed a little muck onto his palm. A slight unsteadyness revealed another problem, and Lucius stood on his left foot and rested his right hand against the tunnel end while he investigated what had caused it. "And that's the heel of my good boot - mudbloo.....!"

To say that Lucius was surprised when the brick under his hand levered downwards with an audible "click" would be an understatement. To say he was displeased when he once more measured his not-inconsiderable length on the tunnel floor would also be a disparagement of his feelings. But to describe the feelings of the gentleman within the chamber in any way, when faced with the sudden intrusion of a tall, slender, shit-covered wizard, would be to completely belittle their importance.

It was possibly the fumes rising from the puddle beside his face, but Lucius was having hallucinations. After all, an elegant dinner table set for two was not that unusual an item, and the exceedingly handsome man in full Muggle World War Two RAF battledress might be waved away as the product of tiredness and mild poisoning. But the man's dinner companion, elegantly attired in a fine Crepe de Chine pleated dress and sporting a diamond necklace was, without doubt, a sheep.

Lucius did what anyone else could gladly forgive him for - he fainted.


	2. Bath

It's amazing the restorative powers of a hot bath. Lucius propped his feet up on the enamelled edge, and leaned back into the warmth, watching as the slime and muck of several hours earlier retreated rapidly when approached with a bar of suitably-scented soap. His hair was clean and once more showed as blond, and his nails no longer reeked of the sewers. Only problem was, he wasn't sure _where_ he was.

"You're in the sewers underneath Cardiff" said a voice behind him, astutely guessing the question before Lucius had a chance to ask. "You accidentally found your way through the old smuggler's entrance, although I doubt whether that was its true use. More likely a hidey-hole for the workers when they were building those sewers. More importantly, though - _why_ where you there?" The speaker walked around the front of the bath into Lucius's eyeline, and proved to be (as expected) the man he had seen earlier. Devoid of the battle jacket, he was wearing trousers with braces and a collarless shirt of a style old-fashioned even for one of Lucius's conservative tastes. "Jack Harkness" was pronounced with a held-out hand. "And you are?"

"Who I am and what I am doing here remains my business" snapped the wizard. "Now if you would point me towards a towel and my clothes, I shall inconvenience you no longer." Ignoring modesty (because, after all, this person had probably been the one to undress him and it seemed churlish to mention it) he placed his hands on the sides of the tub and started to lever himself up. The air was cooler than he realised, and steam rose from the lean, tall body that stood dripping soap suds without embarrassment. The other's gaze, however, was not entirely dispassionate - Jack was taking an appraising view of the rather attractive sight before him. It was, after all, difficult to ignore - and worth the attention.

"TOWEL???" Lucius barked, frustration and annoyance starting to break the cool demeanour.

"Oh, sorry - my mind was elsewhere" responded Jack, handing over a sadly dilapidated length of coarse terrycloth. "Unfortunately, your clothes are still being cleaned, and might be some time. You look about my size - let me see what I can find you." He turned and rummaged in a wooden chest behind him, while Lucius leisurely towelled the remaining suds off his body. The wizard took the chance to glance around the room, taking in the lack of windows, the rough wooden floor and the slight odour of rats that came in through the sewer grating to one side. The door seemed old yet solid, and the two plain wooden chairs had seen better days, but were decently made from some sort of dark timber. Jack stood and held out a pair of black pleated trousers, another collarless shirt and a small selection of undergarments that were, at least, white. "I haven't worn these since before the last... since forever, so they might as well see some use. Come on through when you're ready, and we'll see about getting you home... which is?"

"Not here, obviously." Lucius watched as Jack left, then scrambled into the clothes with a lack of dignity exactly opposite to that he had shown before. A quick look around confirmed that there was no sign of his wand, and although he was capable of several wandless spells, none of them (not even a fast _scourgify_) seemed to be working. And _Cardiff_ - what Merlin-forsaken chance had him here, when he'd been checking the sewers beneath the Leaky Cauldron in London. A rift? An accidental portkey? And there was still the puzzle of that sheep - although he wasn't sure if he really wanted to solve _that_ small mystery. Only one way to get things happening... Lucius wrapped his supercilious attitude around him like a cloak, and opened the door.


	3. Sheep

The antechamber was dry, smell-free and well-lit. Obviously converted from some sort of cellar or oubliette, it was now the dining room that Lucius remembered from earlier, only the table was now set for a small informal supper for himself and his ... jailer? rescuer? Jack stood as Lucius came in, and gestured him to the seat opposite. All traces of the wizard's odourous entrance had been cleaned from the floor, and all signs of the erstwhile dinner companion had likewise been removed - although Lucius's sharp eyes spotted a thin strand of fleece caught on a splinter on the chair. He tweaked the fibres out, and laid them on the table before sitting down himself.

"You keep interesting company" he remarked, as he surveyed the simple repast of cheeses and dried fruits. "I'd thought the sewer gasses had caused me to hallucinate, but I would be the last one to disparage a man's dinner companion just because she had a different take on wearing wool."

Jack grimaced. "There _is_ more to her than meets the eye, I grant you. However, I do need to ask you a few things before I tell you my side. For instance, I deal with weapons of mysterious and alien origin daily. And yet, I have rarely seen one as perplexing as this. Do you always disguise your firepower as a twig?" He held up Lucius's wand, for once not within its hiding place in the cane. "I accidentally triggered it earlier, but I can't seem to reproduce the effect."

It was just too far away for Lucius to snatch, so he leaned back and displayed the nonchalance that had served him well many other times. "Such things are beyond your comprehension, young man. I suggest you hand it back unless you wish to be injured or killed."

Jack grinned, the epithet "young" not making a dent on his already-ancient psyche. "I don't think this is an alien weapon now. I've met your type before, and it seems this meeting was not entirely co-incidental. This would be a wand, would it not? Purchased from Ollivanders- if indeed he is still in the business. It must be over a hundred and twenty years since I last visited the shop. You, sir, are a wizard. Tea?"

As if he had merely mentioned the colour of Lucius's hair or the state of the weather, Jack proffered a fine china cup and gestured towards the teapot. In an attempt to maintain his composure, Lucius took the cup and accepted the hot tea gratefully, wondering just what or who he was facing. "Did you, ... I beg your pardon, did I mishear or did you say you had been to Ollivander's a hundred years ago?"

"One hundred and twenty-seven years, to be precise., in the company of a dear friend and his daughter as she was purchasing her first wand. I don't remember all the details, but it contained ash wood and a hair from the tail of a ... thellis?" Jack smiled, remembering the eagerness of the young girl, and the amusement of his friend at having finally found something to surprise the time traveller. "I remember, because it was at the same time as I created this hideaway while the owner was building his folly upstairs. Very thoughtful of the old foundations to be so sturdy."

"I see then that the wizarding world is not so strange to you", replied Lucius. "It was most probably Thestral tail hair in the wand, and yes, that is _my_ wand you hold there. Will you accept my name in exchange for it?"

"Not so easy, my blond friend." Jack turned as a door in the opposite wall creaked open. "I believe you met Elanor earlier, although you were not properly introduced. Elanor, how did you go with our guest's clothing?"

The Corriedale ewe trotted in, bearing a brown shopping bag of the "recycled paper" type in her teeth. A flip of her head catapulted the bag onto the table, and she pushed it further on with her nose, then turned to rub her head against Jack's leg, who scritchelled her ears affectionately. "Things are not always what they seem. Elanor spent most of her life up to now as human-looking as I am, but last month I found her in this form, unable to speak and obviously distressed. As am I. And while I am adept at most forms of alien transmogrification, this one has me stumped! Have you any ideas?"

"_Ovifors_"

"I beg your pardon?"

"_Ovifors_! It's a variation on a curse or charm, which will turn someone into a sheep. I believe it's commonly mentioned in some of the muggle literature and of all things, their electronic infernal games. I would suggest", continued the wizard while rising to his feet to better examine the sheep, "that your friend Elanor ran afoul of another wizard, or stumbled into a pre-set trap created by someone with abilities in polymorph. Does she normally live down here?"

"Not normally, no, but she _was_ down here when it happened. And we thought it politic that she ought to stay here until we could cure her. Why - do you think it was something here that did this?"

Lucius pondered for a moment, then remembered. "I seem to have some sort of trouble actually working any magic in here. While anti-magic areas are known, they're very rare, and it would take a powerful wizard to set one up. Perhaps Elanor inadvertantly tripped something by this same person. Do you know what she was doing at the time?"

Jack was about to reply in the negative when Elanor baa-ed loudly and ran out the door. Puzzled, the two men followed, along a short corridor and to the stairs that obviously led up to the outside world - obvious in that a crack of light around the trapdoor at the top showed it to be daylight outside. Elanor ran _around_ the stone stairs to the space underneath them, and stood bleating.


	4. Discovery

It would have taken far more skills in magic detection than would be possessed by even a muggle such as Jack to spot the trap at the back of the loose stones. Elanor pawed at the cavity, and then stepped back with a frightened shiver.

"My wand" demanded Lucius, hand out. Jack hesitated for a moment, then handed it over, and the wizard used its elm length to probe the cavity carefully. After a moment, his breath caught. "This is not good. Someone, quite some time ago, has left a trap within this space. It was designed to take another wizard, but it seems your friend caught it instead. Old-fashioned, probably over three hundred years old, but solvable. Except for this dratted anti-magic field, which I think may be related."

"Is it energy-based?" Jack peered into the hole, and noticed a slight glow at the end. He turned to a nearby box and pulled out a wicked-looking device. At Lucius's raised eyebrows, he smiled and explained "Hyperspectral Scanner. Indispensible in this business. But you'd better stand back."

Lucius could almost feel the energy around him change as Jack activated the scanner. Then a noise drove through his head like the screeching of a thousand Dementors' victorious howls, and the world around him went black. It might have only been for a minute, but the blond wizard fell to the floor, hands over his ears and whimpering in a most undignified manner until Jack could disable his device and remove the sound. The sheep, too, was huddled in a corner and shivering in distress. The first Lucius knew that things were over was when Jack thrust a glass of brandy into his hand and helped him lift it to drink. The second was his awareness of a foul burning smell, and as his vision cleared he saw the small greasy waft of smoke coming from the hole in the stairway. He felt a familiar tingle in his hand and, looking down, saw that he was still clutching his wand - and it felt _normal_.

Lucius gulped down the brandy, and held the glass out for another. "That was a Dark Magic trap if ever I felt one. The wizard who left it there must have been powerful - and done it a very long time ago." He coughed, and shook his head. "If your machine can analyse the energies, it'll show that that noise was from the enchantment soaking into the stones over five hundred years ago." At this point, he managed to look modest, if such a thing is possible for a Malfoy. "I made some study of old stored magics in my youth."

In the meantime, Jack had scraped out the last charred remains of whatever was in the hole, and ran the scanner over it once more. "Clean. At least as far as I can tell."

"My turn, I believe" smiled the wizard, scrambling to his feet and raising his wand. "Miss Elanor, if you please." The sheep, which had stopped shivering, looked up at him with more intelligence than a Corriedale ewe ought to possess. He raised his wand and intoned deeply, "_Abrogo Ovifors_"

A light dusting of fog wafted over the sheep, and it began to transform into a humanoid shape - unclothed. In deference to the lady's sensibilities, Lucius turned and walked back to the other room. Picking up his bag of clothes, he turned back to Jack who had followed him to that room. "And at this point, I shall leave you. Lucius Malfoy, at your service." Before Jack could reply, he disapparated, leaving only a thunderclap and a smell of ozone in the room.

Jack walked to where Lucius had been standing, and cursed for not having tricked the wizard into staying longer. Behind him, a voice chuckled. "Well, it's nice to be back to normal. And he _was_ rather attractive. I do hope we can meet again. Now, I believe we had a broken appointment." A long, lithe tentacle curled over Jack's shoulder, and he turned and headed back to the entry room with a smile.


End file.
